


Waiting for the Sun

by Falln_Grce



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Fluff, Helpful James Bond, James Bond Takes Care of Q, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Q is just along for the ride, and Charlie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 09:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22493851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falln_Grce/pseuds/Falln_Grce
Summary: Should the day ever come that a random child was deposited on one of their doorsteps with a note that read ‘he’s yours, I can’t do this’, Q had always assumed (really, everyone had) that it would be 007 who was the recipient of that little bundle of joy.Somehow, that’s not what happened.
Relationships: Eve Moneypenny & Q, James Bond/Q
Comments: 29
Kudos: 193





	1. Chapter 1

Should the day ever come that a random child was deposited on one of their doorsteps with a note that read _‘he’s yours, I can’t do this,'_ Q had always assumed (really, everyone had) that it would be 007 who was the recipient of that little bundle of joy.

Somehow, that’s not what happened. 

Before Q was _Q,_ back when he was just another tech working in R&D, he’d shared a flat with his friend, Katie. 

Q might swear up, down, and sideways that he was gay… And he was. It’s just that a recent break up and seven shots of tequila, chased with a very large long island iced tea could possibly, maybe, potentially create a situation where he might have slept with his very female flatmate. 

Honestly, Q was surprised he could still function with that amount of alcohol, let alone perform to the point where this was even possible. He certainly hadn’t remembered that night in full detail. But looking at the birth certificate that came with the, hand to God, _bassinet_ left on the doorstep, he did some math. 

Charlie (no surprise on the name, Katie had always been a fan of the Royals) was ten months old. Plus another nine-ish for the pregnancy... and yes, that was around the time Q had woken up in Katie’s bed. Without a scrap of clothing between them. 

Incidentally, that was only a couple months before Katie had moved out with no notice and no forwarding address. Q had come home to all of her things gone one evening. She’d always been a bit of a flake though. 

The birth certificate listed Q as the father, though he’d be doing a paternity check on that. 

Regardless. At that very moment there was a baby, in a bassinet that was maybe a little too small for the infant, on top of Q’s kitchen table. 

Percy, the more adventurous of his two cats had jumped up on the table to investigate. Q tried to push him away from the baby, but he was adamant. He just hoped the baby stayed sleeping through it. 

Luck was not on his side. 

As soon as he was able to grab Percy and return him to the floor, the tan little fiend reminded Q of his Siamese heritage. Loudly. Which in turn, woke up the baby. Who also let Q know he wasn’t happy. Also, loudly. 

“No, no, no. Oh God, no.”

Q called Eve. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any other friends… it was just that, well, he didn’t really have time anymore to _have_ any other friends. 

“Q,” she answered, and then immediately launched into, “the exec meeting is starting in less than five minutes, I hope you’re calling to say you’re just in the lift and… is that a baby?”

“Yes, Eve, the very high pitch scream that I am sure is about to burst my eardrums is, in fact, a baby. I’m still at home, I won’t be in the meeting, I doubt I’ll be in at all today… I need your help. Please come.”

Hopefully, the pathetic whimper he added at the end would make up for messing up her schedule. 

“Q, you can’t… I can’t… good God man, pick it up before it shreds its poor little lungs.”

Not the best advice. The screaming didn’t stop, and it was now happening a lot closer to his ear. He might need to stop by Medical to see if there was any damage. 

Over the shrill sound, he could just make out Eve’s voice. “Look, I can’t get away right now. Honestly. But I can come by after… What? Will you really?”

“Eve, what are you talking about? And please, I have no idea what to do with this. I know machines, not babies.” 

He could hear her continuing to talk to someone in the background, but all he could concentrate on was the truly horrible and distressed sounds coming out of little Charlie. 

And now Percy as well. God, what was his life.

Finally, Eve came back on the line directly. “Sorry, Q. Sorry. But don’t you worry, I’m sending someone to help. I promise I’ll come by as soon as I’m off for the day, but I’m sending you help for now. Will you still be at home in half an hour?... What?... Okay, I’ll ask… Q, are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here,” he said around a defeated sigh. Maybe if he bounced the baby a little?

“Okay, help is on the way, but do you have any supplies? How old is the baby?”

“Uhhh… the date on the birth certificate makes him just past ten months. And no, I have nothing here. He didn’t really come with anything, he was just laying there on my step in this tiny basket.”

“What, on your front doorstep?” And now Eve sounded a little pissed. Yes. Q liked it when she was pissed, it meant she was invested. 

All aboard the ‘Eve has been offended by something’ train! 

“Okay, well just wait a little longer, maybe an hour?...” She didn’t sound sure. “Hour and a half,” that sounded more confident at least. 

“Who are you sending?” 

“Don’t you worry, I’ve got it under control. You just try and keep that baby calm and reinforcements will be there soon. I really do have to go now, Q, the meeting is starting.”

He didn’t bother to say goodbye, she’d already hung up. Who was Eve sending? Tanner? That might be good actually, Tanner had children, he’d probably know what to do. 

Charlie spent the next hour and a half screaming. There were little pockets where he’d stop for a few minutes, and Q thought he’d tired himself out. But they never lasted long. 

He learned pretty quickly that setting Charlie down anywhere led to more vigorous screaming. And it seemed like the baby could tell when Q took a seat himself, even though he was still holding him. 

It took longer than an hour and a half for whatever help Eve had promised to show up. By two hours gone, Q was debating calling her back. But right before he attempted to _glide_ back to the kitchen, the doorbell rang. 

He wasted no time at all getting to the door. Normally he would have double checked the security camera, but Charlie was starting to make those sounds again. The ones where he noticed Q was moving a tad disjointedly and wanted to let him know that he didn’t appreciate it. 

He had about fifteen seconds, twenty if he was lucky, before meltdown #50 struck. He swung the door open and lost all ability to think for the moment. 

James Bond. Eve had sent James Bloody Bond to his doorstep. 

While that was mind numbingly unbelievable enough, it was the fact that the man had reams of shopping bags looped on his arms and a large box in front of him that really stole intelligent thought. 

“Is this a joke.” 

Charlie didn’t get the memo that the world had ended. Or maybe he had, smart thing. Because right before James could follow his patented smirk up with what was sure to be a witty rejoinder, the little lad released a wail to rival any banshee out there. 

James carefully pushed his way inside, dropping the box on his way to the kitchen, and telling Q over his shoulder to “Shut the door.”

Bags were deposited on the table as Q followed him in. And the shock of all shocks came when James immediately came to stand in Q’s space once he was free. 

“Let me see him.” Soft but firm, confident. 

Q immediately tightened his hold and shifted a little to the side. 

“Q, let me see him,” James repeated. This time he added a little smile, but didn’t wait for Q to comply; he, albeit very gently, took the baby and started to stroll away. 

If James had been expecting his charm to ease the baby’s unhappiness, it didn’t happen. But the agent took it in stride, wandering to the living room with Charlie nestled onto his chest, murmuring reassurances and rubbing his tiny back. 

Q was annoyed to note that it took a considerably smaller amount of time to get the crying stopped than he’d been able to achieve so far. 

Once the acoustics were down to reasonable levels again, James came back to the table. Using one hand, he dumped out the bassinet, uncovering an envelope that had been hidden under the blanket but nothing else. 

He slid the letter over to Q and set about emptying the shopping bags. Q was torn between opening the letter and watching as more and more supplies for an infant were laid out.

The letter won. It was from Katie, and as suspected it detailed the events of how Charlie came to be. Why she had moved out without telling him, and that she thought she could be a mother but she really couldn’t. 

It wasn’t a particularly long letter. 

He turned back to Bond who had set out some kind of mat on the table and was unfastening the little romper. 

“What are you doing?” He was honestly curious. 

“He needs a changing.” 

It was still a little disconcerting that Bond was being so calm about everything. He hadn’t judged Q yet, but he thought it best he not get his hopes up that it would last. 

Changing a diaper wasn’t as simple as a switch out of old and new. There were wipes, cream, and powder before a new one was on. He watched it all with a student’s interest. 

“How do you know what to do?”

Bond smirked to the side. “I’ve been around kids before, Q”

That didn’t seem to fit with what he knew of the man. When would he have a reason to learn about infant care? “When?”

Bond took a moment and then said quietly, “One of my marks on a mission was a single mom.”

Q wisely didn’t ask what happened to the mark. Or the baby. 

“There we are now. That’s better, no?” He was talking to Charlie. Right up until he pushed the now quiet boy into Q’s arms and leaving him no choice but to hold him or let him fall.

But Bond wasn’t making any kind of point, he just needed his hands free to go back to the rest of the bags and start sorting their contents on the table and countertops.

Bond sets up the playpen in the living room. Telling Q they’ll need a crib but that it can wait for a day. Oddly, it doesn’t appear James is leaving anytime soon. And the use of the collective term _we_ when James said “We’ll get one for him tomorrow,” hinted at a prolonged exposure to the helpful agent. 

He left James to set up the contraption and walked to the back of the flat with a nice, calm Charlie in his arms. The baby seemed interested in his surroundings now that he wasn’t a screaming mess. 

The flat, while spacious, only had two bedrooms. One is Q’s of course, but the other one was already converted into an office. Desks and computers, several monitors, filing cabinets, a soldering area… 

There wasn’t room for a crib. Could he move everything in there out? Maybe. James would probably be good for that actually. Everything pointed to him being there to assist, but where would he put everything? 

It was only when James found Q and Charlie in the office and gave him a look of understanding that Q realized he was already making plans to reshuffle his life around for the boy. He’d be checking on a DNA test, but he knew… he just already knew somehow that he was holding his son in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

The light of the day was entirely gone by the time James got around to putting together dinner. Q thankfully grew out of the ‘starving student’ phase before he’d left his first year at uni. No one could subsist on a diet of pot noodles every night and not end up with some serious health issues. 

No, he’d researched easy, cost-effective healthy meals and made it a point to factor in a market run at least once a week for fresh produce. It was a good habit to make and he’d carried it over into his life as a full fledged adult. 

James appreciated it because it meant he didn’t have to ‘scrounge up’ ingredients for a decent meal. 

Eve announced her presence through the door seconds after a light knock sounded. With the kitchen being right off the foyer, James stepped away to let her in. 

“God that smells good,” she groaned, following him inside. “Where’s Q and the baby?”

“Charlie is sleeping, so we’re staying quiet,” he told her pointedly. “And Q is turning over the laundry. I picked up some clothes while I was shopping. They should fit him for a while, but he’ll need another size soon.” 

James nudged her out of the small space and over to the dining room to set down the folders she’d come in with. Doing so led her to come face to face with not one, but two judgmental looking cats sitting up in front of the table. 

“Well hello,” Eve gushed. “You guys are so pretty!”

They were pretty. James thought so too. And they’d both been friendly with him earlier, twisting around his ankles while he sorted supplies, coming up for pets if he rested in any one spot. 

They were less than amused, however, with Eve. 

Neither one came closer when she held a hand out, and James could’ve sworn the darker one squinted his eyes. 

“They like Charlie so far,” James told her with a smile at her put out expression. “I thought you two were friends. You’ve not met his cats?”

“We are friends,” she insisted meanly. “I’ve seen him home on evenings before, but I haven’t been inside. Q likes his privacy.” 

James hummed but focused on finishing up at the stove. 

Q came back from down the hall, presumable where the laundry room was housed. And Eve noticed then that there was a soft melody of instrumental music floating around the room. 

“That’s pretty. Classical?”

“Hmm,” Q agreed. “Bond put it on and Charlie knocked out almost immediately. I’m not convinced it was the music that did it, but just in case…” 

She nodded like she understood. But to be fair, Eve hadn’t been there to see him nearly pull out his hair when Charlie was inconsolable. It had only been hours but he was already exhausted with stress by the time James had arrived. 

Speaking of James, he was certainly making himself right at home in Q’s space. Q’s pretty sure he’s not entirely happy with that idea, but it would take more brain power than he wants to use to really decide. 

Despite the fatigue, Eve had brought paperwork for Q to sign. It’s about Charlie. Hardcopy forms, not electronic. When Q asks, she said Mallory recommended keeping things off the servers for now. 

He’ll need a check in at Medical. Eve’s brought a printout of an appointment time later that week with one of the docs they use on the classified missions. 

There’s referrals for Nanny services as well. James takes those almost as soon as he carried out plates from the kitchen. 

“He’ll be fine for a while. I’m grounded right now, I’ll watch him.”

“You’re grounded?” Q asked. How did he not know that?

At the same time, Eve gave her own reply “Yes, James, you are grounded. But there will more than likely be things that need your attention at the office.”

“Then I’ll do them after Q gets home. I’m sure it doesn’t matter where I do my paperwork as long as it’s turned in.” 

“Paperwork?” Also,  _ ‘when Q gets home’?  _ What did that mean? Was James planning on  _ staying in Q’s flat?  _ Surely not without even discussing it first...

“M pulled me from rotation while the rest of Spectre is handled. Apparently, I have too memorable a face to be covert at the moment. As a punishment, he’s assigned me mission transcripts to review.”

“It’s not a punishment,” Eve scoffed. “And maybe if you didn’t go about telling every criminal you come across your  _ actual name _ , you could still do the job they hired you for. Anyway, having a double-oh going over field agent reports will be good for them. Most of them idolize you sorry lot as it is.”

James ignored her and silently set a plate down in front of her chair. He politely didn’t ask if she had been one of the field agents with stars in their eyes during her own tenure. 

“Is it poisoned?”

“I’d never risk Q just to get payback for that time you missed your target and shot me off a train.”

He’d made a personal vow to never let her live that one down. 

She rolled her eyes at the jest. “Good to know you have priorities. And that you lied when you said you didn’t hold grudges. Ugh. Scorpios.”

James smiled before sitting down with two more plates. He turned to grab the forms Q was making steady progress on and moved them to the other side of the table, nudging the plate of hot food into the empty spot where they’d been. 

A cry from the living room had James out of his chair before either Q or Eve could take their first bite. He returned with a sleepy Charlie, passing the table into the kitchen and grabbing the bottle he’d set aside. 

Eve lit up at the sight, making grabby hands and cooing. But James merely sat back in his own chair with the baby in his arms nursing at the bottle. “After dinner,” he told her. “Q, eat your food.”

To be perfectly honest, Q was getting a little too pissed to ignore the ‘James’ situation for much longer. Yes, he’d asked for help. But he wasn’t completely incapable of seeing to Charlie’s needs. For the last several hours, James had commanded this and that. Setting himself up in  _ such _ a provider role. 

Q was the provider, damn it!

James must have picked up on it. “I’ll show you the bottles after he’s down for the night, but right now if he’s eating, you need to eat. I’m only here to help, Q.”

It would be an argument they would have later, to be sure. But the food did smell good. And Charlie had only been there less than a day. 

Q ate his food. Because he was hungry. Not because he was told to. 

He decided  _ against  _ telling Bond that it was delicious. 

Also, he felt a little humbled when he had a minor freakout about James feeding the baby tiny bites of food from his plate. 

“He’s ten months, Q, not ten weeks. He can have a bit of solids with his bottle.”

Q had to look it up. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe James, he just wanted to see the literature for himself. 

But of course the man was right. Would Charlie have suffered if James hadn’t been there? Q would’ve done the research himself probably, he would’ve known it was okay. But James had been making calls like that all afternoon and Q really didn’t need to hunt for information. 

It was all so overwhelming, how much research he knew he was going to need to get done. And it was just the first day. 

After dinner came the burping, then the changing, then Eve getting to play while James shoveled cold food into his mouth before loading the dishwasher. 

Q enjoyed seeing Eve with Charlie. She didn’t have any little children in her life, but she took to him like a duck to water. And Charlie seemed mesmerized with her right back, staring up at her face in wonder and reaching out for any curls that dangled within reach. 

James popped in the living room to let them know he was running out to the car for a moment. No sooner had the door closed than Eve turned a serious look at Q. 

They were friends. Which meant that Eve was the one Q had turned to nearly three months ago when he’d been too deep in his head over James  _ ‘I-seduce-people-like-it’s-a-goddamn-olympic-sport’  _ Bond.

Here’s how Q figured it went down in Bond’s head: M, the old M, had assigned 007 one last mission. Even if it was from beyond the grave. Bond had a target, but that’s pretty useless unless you know someone who can track them down. And while Bond wasn’t going to take the situation to Mallory and get it sanctioned, he needed someone to work in secret. 

That someone would need to be able to find a needle in a haystack. Enter Q. 

For over a week Bond met Q at his half-unpacked flat in the evenings. To search through databases and track down the man they were looking for. Only one of those nights, he showed up on Q’s doorstep before he could head out. 

It went the same that night as it had been for the rest of the week, but with one marked difference. Q found their target. And James thanked him. 

But he couldn’t just say ‘thank you,’ could he? Nooooo. That would be too pedestrian for someone of 007’s calibre. 

Instead, when Q pushed his laptop onto the coffee table, Bond leaned in and said in a low, husky voice, “Thank you, Q,” about half a second before he tilted his head forward and killed any protest Q would have given with a deep, and pretty intense kiss. 

Seriously, when Q came back to himself enough to wonder what’d gotten into James, he was flat on his back on the couch with James over him, having moved the focus of his kiss onto Q’s neck. And then soft bites to the shell of his ear, and then down to his neck again before coming back up to his lips. 

He remembers pulling James closer when a shiver wracked through him. The shiver was from the cold air hitting his ribs. James’ hands had been busy while he was destroying Q’s executive reasoning skills, and had shoved his top up. And then the hands were exploring, and grasping, and holding him. Encouraging him to shift his legs to wrap around James. 

It could’ve been ten minutes, it could’ve been an hour. But Q was responsible enough to admit that he’d been an active participant in his debauchery. But active or not, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t resent Bond later. 

He’d stayed the night, corralling Q into the bedroom after he’d brought them both off, only to do it all over again once they were under the warm duvet. That wasn’t the part Q resented. What bothered him was the fact that he woke to an empty bed the next morning, all traces of James gone. 

And not just from his flat. James had left London. Their target had been located in Mexico. Given that Q was the one to find him, James wasn’t that hard to track down. 

When he came back, it was like nothing had happened. James, though Q never called him that again, never mentioned that night, or behaved any differently when they were together. 

For a moment, Q had a sick thought that Bond had considered it payment for helping him. Which was what led to him going to Eve and pouring his sorrows out over a lunchtime stroll. 

She’d been a friend before, but after that, they had a closeness that even Tanner remarked on. She didn’t judge him, she kept his secret, and she didn’t insist on him seeking out a convenient warm body to get over the absolute tosser that was James Bond. 

But then Nine Eyes… and Austria… and Spectre... and Madeline…

Where in all that mess was Q supposed to figure out what James’ motivations had been?

All of it culminating with the man himself leaving London, _again,_ with a woman he’d known for the better part of a week max. 

When James returned a month later, which was only a couple weeks before Charlie appeared on his step, they didn’t talk about it. 

Q didn’t ask any questions, and Bond didn’t offer any answers. He’d had a couple meetings with Mallory, and he was still in the database as an employee of MI6, but there’d been no reason for the two of them to pass each other in the halls. 

Q stayed in Q-branch. And without a mission, Bond didn’t visit. 

So when Eve stood in his living room holding his happy little son, she raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him and asked point-blank “Are you okay with him being here?”

“We’ll, he already knows where everything is….”

She wasn’t impressed. “Q, that’s not what I mean.”

He did not duck his head bashfully. He was just taking stock of the state of his footwear, was all. “I know. And it’s fine. He’s been helping and to be honest, I do need the help. At least until I sort out what I’m going to do with him.”

“What do you mean, Charlie? Do you not want him?” She might not judge him about James, but it was clear she was already attached to the child in her arms. 

“No of course I do. I want Medical to run a paternity, but… yes… I want him. I just don’t know what to do with him. My schedule isn’t really meant to include a baby, is it?” 

“That’s ridiculous,” she sent back as James returned carrying a duffle and two garment bags, which he deposited in Q’s bedroom. 

Eve lifted another eyebrow at Q. He shushed her and she got back to her previous line of thinking. 

“Of course he’s yours, look at this hair. Only a son of your would have a full head of these beautiful dark curls.” She murmured the last of it into said curls, which had Charlie squealing in happiness. 

James came back out and promptly disappeared back into the bedroom with the playpen. Eve gracefully didn’t give Q  _ another _ look. 

She stayed for a bit longer and Q fixed them a pot of tea. But soon enough, Charlie was flagging in her arms. 

Q saw her out, thanking her for the forms and the help while James took Charlie to the back of the flat for bedtime. 

They definitely need to talk. But James showed Q the bottles and how to make the formula, and how to heat it while they cleaned up the kitchen. 

“Charlie needs a proper crib in the morning,” James told him. “The pen will do for tonight, but we’ll need to get something better for tomorrow.”

“I have a mission at ten. And I can’t just leave him here to go shopping.”

“That’s fine. I have something… Wait here.” He made another run to the car to grab a sporty looking baby carrier and another box with a stroller inside to show Q. 

“You carry it like a backpack?” Q asked, holding up the red and black carrier. 

“Sort of,” James smiled. “But in the front.” He strapped it on Q and shoved a pillow down into the slot that Charlie would sit in. 

“And it’s safe?” 

“The saleswoman said it was top of the line for athletic parents, the stroller too. We can use either one to bring him out when we get the rest of the things he’ll need.” 

Q hadn’t missed that the stroller’s box advertised an ‘all-terrain pushchair’. Did James think he was going to take Charlie on a hike?

And another thing, “Why are you saying we? Wait, no. I have to be in the office tomorrow. I told you. There’s a mission.”

James smiled at him as though Q were the infant. “Then  _ we _ can meet you at the office in the afternoon and  _ we  _ can go to the shops from there.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Where are you going?” James chuckled as he strolled away. “And why are your things in my bedroom? Bond!”

James’ response was another smile, more like a smirk, and a gentle admonishment to keep his voice down, “the baby’s asleep,” before disappearing into the darkened bedroom and leaving Q in the middle of the living room, still strapped into the carrier. Arms around his fluffy pillow passenger. 


	3. Chapter 3

Q’s morning started earlier than it really has any right to.

Except, it’s not because of the baby.

No, Q’s morning starts just as early as it has for months and months. That doesn’t mean it’s in any way a decent hour to roll himself to his feet and get ready for work. He loves his job, he really does. But a start time of 0530 is just ridiculous when one considers how late he typically stays.

James had shared his bed last night. _James Bond had shared his bed last night._

It’s that thought that stays with him for the tube ride in, and then for the first couple of hours on site. There’s little sense to be had at that thought, beyond the irrationality of it having occurred at all. Then again, the shenanigans hadn’t stopped there.

He didn’t wake the man before he got into the shower, but he had a strong suspicion that Bond was already up regardless.

And of course he was. When he stepped out of the en suite, back into the darkened bedroom, he had enough light to see that the bed was empty.

Charlie was still fast asleep though.

But James hadn’t disappeared again. No. No, he had gotten up to cook Q breakfast. The memory was somehow incongruent with the mental dossier he had on Bond. Even after the revelations from the night before.

Eve caught him in a bit of a daze when she popped down to Q-branch a few hours after her own arrival at the office. She let out a sigh and gave him such a look of pity…. “Oh sweetheart, I thought you’d put this behind you.”

He snapped out of his thoughts and shoved her into his office to avoid his staff overhearing anything, slamming the door shut behind them. “Eve,” he hissed. “How about you try sleeping next to the man you shagged a _very_ short time ago… a man who then disappeared with some bottle-blonde dimwit,” 

“She has a degree in Psychiatry…”

His arm flailed out to dismiss her addition. 

“And then, after you wake up next to this man, this man who got up at two this morning to see to your crying son, he fixes you breakfast while you’re in the shower so you can eat without being late for work. Even though he didn’t need to be up for anything. And then! Then Eve, he kisses your forehead and mutters something about having a good morning. Mutters, because again, he was up at two already and didn’t need to be up again at five. But he did, because you were hungry.”

She stares at him, mouth frozen open. 

But he’s not done yet.

“Then I want you to imagine that not even five minutes ago, that same man texted you a picture of him and your son, in what I believe is a park… there’s trees and grass… Look. Look at it.”

He shoves his phone at her, grabbing it back to unlock it, then shoves it to her again. 

She unfreezes to get hold of it before it falls, and sure enough, there is James, holding Charlie in a carrier strapped to his chest, smiling. 

“What…”

“I _KNOW_.”

“Well, this is… this is something.”

Eve doesn’t have the words. And even though Q doesn’t really have them either, he still says, almost in wonder, “He’s smiling, Eve. They’re both smiling.”

“Did he smile when…” she trailed off for a second. “When you and he, you know.”

“When he was indulging me with pity sex in exchange for my services? Yes, he smiled then. Sort of defeats the purpose of it if he let me know he wasn’t into me while he was… in me.”

“That’s crude,” she admonished, quickly followed by, “And I don’t think he was _exchanging -”_

“Yes, I know.” He cut her off. “It sounded wrong when it was coming out. Makes me sound like a prostitute.”

“Q!” 

“Maybe that’s what was bothering me this whole time.” He said, having just figured out the root of his discomfort. “Maybe it wasn’t that I had a _crush_ on the man, or even that he picked someone he barely knew over me. It wasn’t that I was upset because I was jealous, I’ve never been one to pine. That _has_ to be it! I was upset because he made me a whore!”

“Actually, I think that makes _him_ the whore.”

He threw himself down on the little couch in his office, covering his face in the nook of his elbow. “Oh my god. I was a solicitor.” 

“Alright, that’s it.” Eve put her foot down when his tone started to veer towards despair and self-loathing. “You need to put this out of your mind for the next five hours. Can you do that? Q?” 

She shook him when he didn’t seem like he was listening to anything but his failings at life. 

“Q. You have a mission to run in a couple hours. R is out sick, and 002 won’t work with anyone but the two of you.” She was such a task master. “Come on Q. You need to do this, and as soon as you’re done, you can go home and confront the awful man who’s caring for your baby right now.”

He muttered back, the sound muffled by his sleeve. 

“What was that?”

“I said I can’t go home.” Q snapped his arm down to his lap and glared at her as if she were the accused man himself. “He’s coming here. With Charlie.” 

He could tell she wanted to laugh and squinted up at the betrayal. “We are no longer friends.” 

She actually did laugh at that one. “Of course we are. I’m Charlie’s godmother after all.”

“What? Since when?”

  
“Since I decided last night. I already wrote it into the forms.”

  
If he realized what was happening, Q might have been impressed with Eve’s attempt to distract from one bucket of crazy, with… another bucket of crazy. “You can’t just write something on a form and make it true Eve.”

  
“Sure I can.” She knew what she was doing. She’d been herding the cats of Q-branch for a long time. She knew which buttons to go after. “Now come on, up you get. Let’s see about getting you some tea, and ready for your mission before your husband gets here with your son.”

And then she ruined it all. But really, where else was she supposed to get her entertainment?

“Eve!” Q, having been cajoled up from the couch was now in the perfect position to slap his hand against the door to keep her from opening it. “Do not call him that! And absolutely don’t call him that around anyone else. People might believe you’re telling the truth.”

“I could be you know. It’s just words on a form. Won’t take ten minutes.”

“I’d delete it as soon as you did. And then remove your access codes for good measure.”

“Mallory would fire you.”

“Mallory wouldn’t fire me, I’m indispensable.” 

“ _I’m_ indispensable. You’re just the genius we keep in the basement. Hidden away from the polite company when they come to dinner.”

“You’re not very nice.”

“I’m delightful. Now come on, open the door.” 

\-------

  
  


When James arrived later that afternoon, after a thankfully successful mission, he saunters into Q-branch with the baby. Because _of course_ he does.

And just like that, work stopped. Everyone, _everyone_ was distracted from their tasks and one by one they all became starry-eyed over James Bond in jeans and a pull over with a happy little Charlie strapped into his chest.

He’d placed Charlie facing out in front of them, and Q had a moment of his own softness at the look of wonder and curiosity on his son’s face.

No screaming here. Just happy squeals when he caught sight of someone or something he wanted to touch.

His techs were all indulgent of the boy, letting him grab their hands, faces, clothes, and more than a few times, someone’s hair.

Of course Charlie is his son, and Q already knows he’ll have the IQ to match when he’s older. He doesn’t know boundaries yet, and Q’s sort of glad about that. It meant that he hadn’t _needed_ to learn them. He wants to explore.

  
It’s a good thing Bond didn’t take him into R&D. Q would have had a heart attack.

No, instead, Bond stood there while his staff, and then Mallory and Tanner (?!?) arrived to dote on the boy as well.

  
Shopping. Right, they needed to go shopping.

“M,” Q cleared his throat and called over. “I have the mission debrief already sent to your email, but I’ll need to duck out now, if that’s alright. Get some things for Charlie.”

It’s so odd to see a huge smile on his boss’ face. But it’s clear that he’s been won over to Charlie’s, if not Q’s, side. Leaving early wasn’t a problem at all.

Q didn’t say anything when James placed a hand on the small of his back to gently guide him out. And he didn’t say anything as he left it there for most of their shopping excursion.

When they’d arrived at the shops, driven due to the distance but also the anticipated purchases, James helped Q don the harness and strapped Charlie inside. He situates the boy facing Q this time, and the steady walk and polite conversation sends Charlie into a nice nap for a lot of their trip.

Once they’d returned and brought the purchases inside James took over food preparations that night. Again. Really, Q has no problem cooking, but it is sort of nice that he doesn’t have to.

He turned on soft music again and set out a mat on the living room floor when they got back, gave Charlie a change, and then entertained him now that he was wide awake again.

Among so many other things, they’d picked up toys at the shops that he busies himself with as James puts a roast in the oven and disappeared into the bedroom to set up the crib.

He supposes James makes a good nanny. And Q won’t be able to take time off work for another week at least. But Mallory has promised him that he’ll give him some time soon. 

Plus, he wouldn’t trust anyone but R to take the helm in his absence, and she’s still out sick. 

He’s working again two days later when James shows up at MI6 again. Except it wasn’t for fun times in Q-branch with a baby and twenty besotted techs.

The medical appointment was that afternoon.

Q was supposed to be able to take Charlie to the check-up. He’d wanted to do that himself. But he’d gotten caught up in something and hadn’t noticed the hour. 

By the time he’d made it up to Medical, James was already in the appointment with Charlie.

He felt an overwhelming anger take over. They had talked about this _just_ last night.

James was absolutely helpful, and having him take care of Charlie when Q had to work had been a load off his mind. He was even getting used to sharing the small flat, and bed with James.

He hadn’t mentioned the kiss on the forehead from the first morning, and there hadn’t been any more following that. Or any form of ‘advances’ in the bedroom late at night. He’d been a comforting warmth lying next to him actually.

It was confusing more than anything else, really. Yes, there had been a _crush…_ , and yes, they’d shared a night together… But this?

He _knew_ Q wanted to do this. It would have been just as easy for James to bring Charlie to Q-branch and grab him instead of heading straight to Medical.

What was he trying to prove here? That Q needed to be more devoted as a father? He was _trying_ for god’s sake.

  
He texted Eve to meet them there and watch Charlie for a few minutes after the appointment so he could confront James. 

Who is not contrite. But he does see the struggle Q is having trying to make time for both work and Charlie. 

“What are you talking about?” James shot back once Eve had arrived. They were still in the halls of Medical and James wasn’t even trying to keep his voice down. But maybe that’s because Q hadn’t either. “No, I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m _trying_ to _help_. I assumed you got caught up and would meet us here when you could.”

“You’re just…God! You’re just so…”

“I’m what Q?” James asked back, though that infamous sneer was starting to show itself. “Being a decent person? Taking care of Charlie? Making sure he’s happy and fed so you can adjust to being a father?”

It was the mocking tone that did it more than what James actually said. Q would later blame his next words on that smug voice and James’ innate tendency towards confrontational body language.

“Well he’s not your son! He’s mine. And I can see to his needs just fine, thank you!”

  
Q catches himself only after he’s practically screamed at James. In front of all the onlookers who’ve crawled out of the woodwork, practically salivating for a morsel of juicy gossip fodder. 

James didn’t respond, he didn’t even widen the sneer. In fact his entire facial expression turned downright icy. He sent a brief look over to the room Eve had hidden Charlie away in and turned on his heel, stalking out of Medical. And presumably, out of the building entirely.

Q was silent when he collected Charlie from Eve, tells her he’s headed home, but doesn’t go into the conversation he’d just had. Honestly, she’d probably heard it through the door.

  
Bond doesn’t come home that night.

And how weird is it that Q thinks of his flat as James’ home. Even with the heated words earlier, he’d still factored James into his expectations of ‘homelife.’

The next day was Saturday though. R had made a miraculous recovery and he had the whole weekend to himself and Charlie. He couldn’t remember the last time his days off had fallen on a weekend.

James never came by. 

By Sunday, he was a little worried. James wasn’t answering his phone.

When Sunday morning turned into afternoon, and then into the evening, James still hadn’t responded to calls or texts.

He called Eve. Who was shocked by the man’s absence. She’d seen him earlier that day in the building. In M’s office actually, turning in his reports.

And that was a little painful. He had actually been worried that something had happened, but it turned out James was just being James. He was worse than Q’s cats, only responding when it was in their own interest to do so.

Would it have hurt him to reply even enough to let Q know that he was alive?

Although, he had been a bit harsh on Friday. It was possible James was upset, and Q really did regret yelling at him, he hadn’t meant to lash out. But if James wouldn’t talk to him, how was he to apologize?

When he mentioned needing to know about those nanny services for the next week to Eve, she told him to give her a few minutes. She called him back in under ten and told him to take the morning, she’ll set something up for after. 

It was odd, her words gave him a strange feeling of deja vu.  
  


Still, around 1000 the next morning there was a knock on the door. Figuring it was the nanny, Q looked briefly at the security camera panel.

“Eve…” he sighed to himself before straightening up and opening the door.

Eve was in the hall.

With James.

The frosty agent didn’t say a word to Q as he passed him on his way inside, but when he walked into the living room, Charlie lit up. And for the next few minutes as Q was getting ready to leave, Eve hanging around to drive him in, his flat was filled with happy baby sounds and clapping. 

Q felt a little like dirt when he looked in on James holding Charlie in a firm grasp over his head, before letting Eve usher him out. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

With James inside and clearly intending to watch Charlie for the day, Q didn’t have a solid reason to delay going in. Thankfully, Eve was there, ready to drive them both to the office rather than force Q to ride the tube. 

He expected a conversation about her sending Bond to him twice now, or even the third degree about his behavior towards a helping hand. Even if it was attached to the man whose past good behavior was spotty.

But, no. There was no prying. No offering of opinions. Eve kept the talk focused on work, and Q was happy enough to do the same. There’d been more than enough of his work hours taken up by personal business lately. 

And that day wasn’t going to be any different. Medical needed him to come up and review the results from Charlie’s exam. He was happy to do it, and beyond happy to learn that the labs had all come back as expected. 

And then there was the extra bit about adding the list of approved contacts in Charlie’s record. He considered it for all of a few moments before he added James to the list. 

When the third member of the Medical staff came up to talk to him, he wondered if this was normal for new patients, or if they were all jumping in because of Charlie’s age. 

It was true that they never really got the opportunity to treat someone younger than any Six staff member, but after the first hour ticked over into two, he got suspicious. Still, if it was for his son, he wasn’t going to complain. 

But it did mean that his time spent upstairs had to be made up in staying later to see to the numerous tasks in his inbox. 

When five o’clock rolled around, and he wasn’t even close to leaving, he sent a text to James to let him know it would be a late night for the office. He didn’t get a reply, but he also wasn’t surprised when Eve made her way down to see him. 

“I don’t think James has any plans tonight,” Eve started when she pushed his office door open, carrying a mug of tea for both of them. “But maybe not make it a habit to work as late as you used to. You’ll miss my godson’s bedtime.” 

He sighed as she sat down, but pushed himself away from his keyboard to give her his attention. “You talked to James then?”

She smiled. “He said to tell you he’ll leave you some dinner in the oven.”

“This is ridiculous.” He pushed all the way back from the desk, throwing his hands down on the armrests. “He has my number, why didn’t he just text me if he wanted to tell me that?”

Eve sipped her tea, watching his exasperation the entire time before setting it on the desk and telling him clearly, “The way you handled everything in Medical was hurtful, and honestly unlike you. I know you were tired, I know Charlie was a big change for you, and I know you and James have an unresolved...  _ history. _ But Q… he really was hurt.”

“Eve…” It was all just making him tired all over. He rubbed his hands up and down his face, hoping it would somehow transport him into the future to when this was all fixed up nice and neat. 

No luck. 

“I know. I know I... may have crossed a line yelling at him like that. Especially with so many people around. But he just… he makes me so angry sometimes.” He looked back at her and saw a ‘listening’ face, which was close enough to a ‘judging’ face that he knew she wasn’t likely to let it drop. “It’s not rational. I mean, it is a little. I was hurt too. But it just builds up and… I really didn’t mean to yell at him like that.”

“I’m your friend, Q. But I’m his friend, too.”

And that was it, wasn’t it. Eve was the best person to talk to about it, he’d know that from the beginning. She was his friend, but she was so  _ very  _ protective of James it was almost like they were related somehow. 

She didn’t think the night they spent together was as bad as Q made it out to be in his own head, and she let him know that. “For all that James can be an outright bastard on a mission, he wasn’t that way with you.”

If he really used sex against his allies, he would have slept with Eve in Macau. He hadn’t. And she had certainly offered. 

“I’m not saying the way he handled the two of you before was all roses and daisies,” she continued. “Not at all. But he wasn’t in a good space back then. Neither of you were, if we’re being honest. But he crashed after M died Q. Surely you saw that. He wasn’t in a place to be good for anyone after that.” 

And Q had seen. Of course he had. James had lost so much already that when M died, when all of his best efforts couldn’t save her, he’d had nothing left but vengeance. One more mission to somehow fix it all. 

“You need to talk to each other,” she said softly when he nodded to her previous statement. “I told him the same thing.”

“Really?” He asked, looking up. 

“Yes, of course. You two need to hash out everything from before. Like it or not, you need help with Charlie. And James is probably the best you’re going to get on short notice.”

“I know he is,” he agreed. “He’s really good with him. I mean it, Eve. He’s so good with Charlie. And Charlie’s taken with him already.”

“Then it’s settled,” she said determinedly, standing up from the chair. “When you get home tonight, talk to him. Get this sorted for all three of you.”

He agreed, not because she expected it, but because he knew it needed to happen. One way or another, he and James needed to talk. 

But… the nanny thing might be a good thing to think about long term. This Spectre thing is going to blow over. And when it does, James will in all likelihood, go back into the field. 

Still. Q  _ needs _ to talk with James. 

He has more than a healthy amount of work to still get done when she finally leaves him for the night, but he delegates the majority of it out to his staff and spends a few more minutes getting the details for the vetted Nanny service sent to his tablet and prioritizing his email. 

He’ll get some more work done after he gets home. Probably. 

When he has some semblance of a candidate list together, and the more high-level tasks ordered, he heads out. 

It’s late. Despite closing up earlier than expected, it’s still gone nine by the time he makes it back to his flat. 

There’s dinner in the oven as promised and James is passed out on the couch. Charlie’s already sleeping in the bedroom. 

He tried to be quiet in the soft lighting. It’s enough to get by without tripping, but dark enough to put a hush on too much noise. The cats didn’t get the memo. 

James woke up to their greetings, or perhaps he wasn’t asleep yet. Either way, Q knew he was awake because he heard the man twist around on the couch so he’s not facing the room anymore. 

He resigned himself to an unwelcome conversation with an unwilling partner. “James,” he ventured quietly, stepping into the living room. But his body language says he’s not interested in talking to Q. 

He could leave it. It would be polite, he supposes. But doing that would just allow it to fester, and Eve was right; they do need to talk. 

“James.” 

No answer. 

“Please come to bed.”

That got James flipping back over to study him where he’d dropped into the chair. As suspected, there was way too much alertness in his otherwise blank expression to have not been awake the entire time. 

“You haven’t eaten.” 

“I had a big lunch. And I'm not all that hungry at the moment.” 

James got up from the couch and crossed the few meters between them silently. For some reason, Q was caught by the fact that James’s feet were bare. He doesn’t know why it’s so fascinating, but it is. 

Then, even more shocking, James knelt on the ground just inside of his legs, and in one swift movement, grabbed onto the front of Q’s shirt and pulled him forward into a kiss. 

He poured everything into it, it seemed. And try as he might to hold the thread of verbalizing their issues and finding a way to improve their standing, Q is drawn into the total takeover just like he was all that time ago. 

He loses himself just as quickly as he did before. His own hands have latched onto the man in front of him as he kissed him back with just as much ferocity as he was getting.

Q was aware of the chair sliding away as he moved forward and lowered himself to rest in James’ lap. And just like before, the man shifts them so Q is underneath him, pliant and ready to be devoured. 

“I’m sorry.” James whispers at one point, separating their mouths only centimeters to get the words out. 

Q shakes his head. “No, no you don’t need to apologize. That was all my own baggage. I didn’t like that I felt inadequate. You were just helping, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He tried to get as much of the words out as fast as he could. He’d been thinking through what he would say on the way home, and was happy just then to have at least  _ something  _ prepared. 

James closed his eyes, let out a deep breath and leaned his forehead on Q’s. The kissing had stopped, sadly. “I don’t mean the appointment.” 

And oh. Oh. 

He knew they needed to talk about it, but now that the kissing had started he was just hoping that maybe they… could delay till morning? 

“It’s okay,” he starts, a little shakily. “We weren’t… you didn’t owe me anything. You didn’t owe me an explanation.” 

“Yes I did, Q. It’s nice of you to say that, but yes I did. And maybe by not giving you one, you got the wrong idea.”

They sat up, and Q wondered if Eve had spent any time having the same talk with James that she had with him. 

“I didn’t leave with Madeleine,” James blurted out. And there went a point in favor of an ‘Eve talk’. “I took her home.” 

“What?” He breathed out. 

James shook his head and swallowed a breath. “I took her back home, and I left her there.”

“But you were gone for a month. Where did you go?”

“Skyfall.” The answer came through a tight smile.

“What?” 

“Now that I’m no longer dead, the sale of the estate was called off. The fact that most of it burnt in the attack didn't endear the buyers either. I went back to check on Kincaid and get started on the renovations.”

“You’re rebuilding?”

And he is, surprise of all surprises. What Q didn’t know, what James hadn’t shared with anyone, was that M’s death wasn’t just the end of a relationship for James. It was the death knell of an era for him. 

“I’m forty-two, Q.” he tells him, sounding more tired than Q’s ever heard. “You’re what? Twenty-one?” 

“Thirty-six, thank you very much.” 

“God, you’ve got good genes.” 

“Well, I moisturize.” 

James let out a chuckle. But he sobered soon enough and looked Q in the eye. “I’m tired.” 

Q knows he’s not talking about the late hour. 

“You still have time.”

“I do. And I don’t want to spend it here. Doing a job that’s more likely to kill me than anything else. I’m  _ tired _ .”

“So, Skyfall.” 

“Skyfall,” James agrees. 

“That’s not really a short commute to London.” 

“No, it’s not.”

“When?”

“It’ll take a while for the main house to be finished. But there’s a few cottages on the land already. Kincaid's of course, but a couple more besides that.” 

James is leaving again. 

It’s not for a mission. But this is James letting him know that he’s  _ leaving _ . He wonders if it would’ve hurt less if he’d really left with Dr. Swann and just disappeared. 


End file.
